


bone deep

by localsharkbait (ninash)



Series: our anatomy [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Amputee Stiles Stilinski, BAMF Stiles, Extremis, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hurt Stiles, Iron Man 3, Kidnapped Stiles, M/M, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Soldier Stiles Stilinski, Torture, stiles and tony become friends, stiles is a special little snowflake, stiles will always beat tony at chess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 04:13:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15964457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninash/pseuds/localsharkbait
Summary: Stiles really could not have known that joining the military would have lead to him meeting Iron Man and getting a boyfriend.





	bone deep

Scott decides to go to UC Davis. That’s what started as the very tiny microscopic snowflake, that caused everything in Stiles life to spiral out of control. Scott is going away for college, Lydia had her full ride to MIT in the bag; the rest of the pack was branching off to go to different colleges and study programs. Malia was taking her year off and going to France, Derek and Cora were leaving tomorrow for some obscure pack or tribe or something in South America. None of it bothered Stiles, really it didn’t. He was the one who had pushed for Scott to apply to Davis; they had a great vet program. The thing that did bother Stiles was that when he had sat down to apply to colleges, he had frozen. He had no idea what or where he wanted to go. Yeah he could apply to the top schools and most likely get in, but what did he want after that? He had no idea. 

So when he was on Cal Tech’s website, there was a small ad at the bottom of the screen. It was cliche about serving your country and giving back, and all that bull Stiles is used to hearing on the TV. But something about it strikes a cord, and before he knows it there’s two army recruits on their way from the base, an hour away from BH, to meet with Stiles. 

They almost don’t sign him; he’s ADHD ridden and he talks too much. He slouches and back talks them. Stiles thinks the only reason they do sign him is because he’s the sheriff's son, which means he’s gotta have some experience in certain fields already. So they leave Stiles with a piece of paper with an address and a time. 

He tells his dad that night because he has to leave next week. The sheriff yells and slams his fists onto the table, furious and forbidding it, but Stiles is eighteen and he can’t actually forbid it. It takes a while, but the sheriff calms down and actually cries. He tells Stiles he never wanted this for him but he’s proud of his son regardless. They both cry, and Stiles tells his dad how scared he actually is. 

But there’s nothing left in Beacon Hills for him anymore, the pack is all leaving for college. _Derek’s leaving_. Something Stiles is refusing to admit or talk about. He calls Scott the next day, asking if they can meet at Sally’s for lunch. It’s just Stiles, Scott, Allison, Lydia, and Jackson. He and Allison still have a hard time being around each other after the whole ‘I almost killed you even though it wasn’t really me’, thing. Jackson complains about the food being too greasy but shuts up with an elbow from Lydia. Stiles tells them he enlisted. They’re all shocked, even Jackson. They wish him luck and Scott gets a little emotional when they part ways after eating. 

He doesn't get to see them leave for college. There’s a dark part of him that thinks he might never see any of them again. With that come more tears from his dad and promises to write and to watch his back, promises that end up falling flat.

He gets sent off to the middle of a war. They saw a bunch of teens eager to help their country and such. Stiles doesn’t necessarily regret enlisting, but he misses home. He misses the food and curly fries and midnight drives through the town. He made friends in his unit, a man and a woman who are the only ones who will even talk to him. Sure the boot camp he went through tightly molded him into a different person, but there are some things that just don’t change. He still fidgets and talks too much, and about the wrong things. He’s one of the best snipers in his unit though, thanks to those that go bump in the night, and his dad taking him out on the range every few blue moons. It also makes sense that the two he befriends are their units medical team. Stiles already knew the basics of first aid from the countless times he’s had to stitch up the pack, and from growing up having Melissa practically as a second mom. 

Their names are Raphael and Lauren. Raph reminds him a lot of Boyd. Big and bulky, packed full of muscle. He’s of spanish descent and sometimes slips back into his native tongue. He’s covered in tattoos, but Stiles’ favorite is the large one that spans his back. It depicts the land of the dead; full of color and intricate designs. The moon covers almost his whole shoulder blade and has designs carved into it like that of a sugar skull. Raph looks intimidating but he’s really a giant teddy bear, especially if you get him talking about his family; he has two younger sisters who are the absolute cutest. Lauren is petite and blonde. She’s put on muscle from basic training, but she’s more so apart of the unit for her advanced medical skills. Ironically she’s blonde, but nothing like Erica was. Lauren is quiet but observant, much like Raph, but when she speaks, people listen. She treats Stiles like a little brother, and it’s a companionship he never knew he needed. When two other members of their unit have cornered him late at night, after they had set up camp, Lauren had been furious with the black eye he had. Stiles had shrugged it off because it really wasn’t that big of a deal, they mess with him all the time. About how thin he still is after a couple months in the army, about the scars that cover his body that can’t be explained; about his quirks and ADHD. 

“I’m gonna kill those little bastards.” Lauren seethes with fists clenched on top of her knees. She's sitting up on her cot, her boots half unlaced. 

“Laur it’s fine, seriously.” Stiles takes the offered ice pack from Raph who nods at the boy. 

“I want their names. Was it Fold and Gram?” She stands and starts pacing the tent. Stiles' chest aches because she reminds him of her dad after he had been beaten up by that geriatric. She takes his silence as an answer and gunts. 

“I knew it. They’ve been messing with you since day one. I’m gonna put itching powder in their boots and blue dye in their shampoo.” Lauren sneered and threw herself onto Raph’s cot. Raph scooted towards her and pulled her tight bun out. Working the knots out and then braiding it back. 

“Seriously Lauren, it wasn’t even them.” Stiles rolled his eyes cause yeah those two pricks had been messing with him but he could have taken them easily.

The blonde let out a hum in acknowledgment, more so concerned with what Raph was doing. Stiles let out a little laugh, and rolled over onto his stomach on the cot, grabbing his bag from underneath and digging to the bottom for his book. 

“I always see you reading that thing. What is it?” Lauren shifted onto her side so that she was facing Stiles. Stiles looks from the blonde to the bestiary resting in his lap. 

“Journal.” He rushes out before his brain to mouth filter could kick in; because when did that ever help him before?

“It’s full.” Raphael points out as he lifts Laurens head to gather all her hair from under her skull. 

“Ancestors journal.” Stiles mumbles out and props the book up on his thighs so the two medics can’t see the words. 

Though he highly doubts they would be able to read it. It’s an original copy Derek had given him, straight from the Hale library, in latin, because everything was always in latin. He is slowly making progress through the bestiary though from the few words he had learned from Lydia, and context clues. The book seems to have the creatures divided by what element they are associated with, Kelpies listed with mermaids, Gnomes and giants together with brownies; dragons, harpies, and griffins with air, Phoenixes and other fire beasts were the fourth. Stiles had yet to figure out why and what the fifth was. 

“It’s getting late, we should turn in.” Raph mutters under his breath. 

Lauren sighs but sits up and makes her way to her own cot. She turns off the lantern hanging on the pole in the middle of the tent, and bids goodnight to the two. Raph answers back in spanish and Stiles lets out a hum. He finishes the page he’s on, only half understanding the words before he wraps it back up in a shirt, and shoves it in his bag. Even the nights in the middle east are unforgiving. It’s hot and sticky, a sheen of sweat covering their skin. Bugs chirp loudly and Stiles can hear helicopters and bullets in the distance. He grabs the pillow and shoves it over his head, and drifts off to listening to the same type of insect that reminds him of cicadas; Of home. 

Two months go by in the blink of an eye. It gets even hotter, and Stiles has been in multiple gunfights. Too many to count. He’s pretty sure Raph and Lauren might have a thing going on, but they’re really good at hiding it. He doesn’t need his adderall anymore, which is good because he ran out two weeks ago, and they haven't been able to get any contact with the outside world besides to their base. Neither Lauren or Raphael comment on how Stiles has changed. He’s quiet now and doesn’t fidget. He hasn’t even noticed the change in himself; he’s halfway done the bestiary and doesn’t know what he’ll do once he’s done. 

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry about that. 

The day starts off a little weird. The commanding officers are quiet and vague with where they’re moving. Stiles doesn’t like it, but he packs up his bag and then helps Lauren and Raph sort through the medical supplies. Lauren rides in the HUMVEE with the larger supplies and Raph walks next to the all-terrain vehicle. Stiles has made his way more towards the front when all of a sudden they give the signal to halt. There’s a tall rock formation, maybe thirty feet ahead; big enough that the enemy would have no problem hiding behind. 

He’s not sure if it’s because he ran with wolves for three years or just dumb luck, but Stiles hears the click of a bomb arming to blast and sees the red light sticking out of the ground, not five feet from where they’re standing. He yells for everyone to retreat, and the soldiers stumble back as Stiles throws himself forward and on top of the bomb. There’s a brief moment where nothing happens, and Stiles thinks the bomb was a dud or maybe this was a training practice. Then his world goes white and he blacks out. 

He wakes up three days later in a hospital, back home. There’s a nurse leaning over him as his eyes blink open and then scrunch shut against the harsh light. His head throbs hard and he chokes on his spit. The nurse makes a noise of surprise and says something he doesn’t catch as she rushes from the room. The doctor comes in and helps Stiles sit up, and gets him some water. There’s another doctor standing at the foot of his bed. She’s dressed in a pantsuit with a name badge. He remembers that one, she’s the psychologist with the hospital; which must mean its bad. 

“Things might be confusing at first. Debris from the bomb smashed your head, so you have a pretty severe concussion.” His doctor speaks softly to him and offers him a smile when he looks away from the psych and at her. Stiles gives a small nod. 

“What else?” He asks, not recognizing his own voice. It’s deep and scratchy. The doctors look at each other before either speaks. 

“Well, when the bomb went off it blew you into the air and a lot of shrapnel became embedded in your back. Some pieces are dangerously close to your spine, and it was too risky to attempt to remove them. Your muscle should just heal and harden around it, and you shouldn’t see any complications except some soreness from time to time.” She’s sugar coating it and Stiles knows it. They tried to do it when his mom was admitted into the hospital. His doctor shoots a quick glance and the psychologist and that’s when things start to slot into place. 

“Unfortunately, when the bomb went off it was closest to your left leg, and there was just too much damage.” 

Stiles takes a sharp breath in and gives a nod. He shoves the blanket off his legs and yup. His left leg is bandaged heavily and there’s a stub right at his knee. He takes a couple more deep breaths before he looks back at the doctors. 

“So what’s next?” He asks his doctor, ignoring the other on purpose. 

He gets honorable discharged and a couple medals out of the whole thing. He gets to see Raph and Lauren again, they visit him in the hospital and bring him his stuff. Raph has the bestiary in a firm grip and the look he gives Stiles, he just knows the man knows more than just the mundane world. Lauren tears up a little because apparently, they hadn’t confirmed whether he survived the blast or not. She checks his leg because she’s dealt with a lot of amputee’s and sings high praise of the doctor that sewed him up. Raphael pulls a chain from under his shirt and pulls the small medallion off, and slips it over Stiles' head. 

“Necesitas esto más que yo.” Raph says quietly and closes his eyes for a moment before telling Lauren they need to head back to base. 

He calls his dad that night to tell him what happened. John is quick to go and buy a plane ticket. Stiles stops him, tells him he’ll be home within the next two weeks, and to not waste the money. They talk for a couple of hours before John lets him go because of how much he’s been yawning. Stiles lays in his bed, the beeping of the machines showing he’s alive, that he made it. His hand subconsciously reaches up and starts to fiddle with the necklace Raph had given him. 

Stiles is in the hospital for another week before they clear him to fly back to Cali. They monitor his leg and the shrapnel lodged in his back. He doesn’t take much morphine when it’s offered, he’s had his fair share of wounds back with the pack. When he gets home it’s a hero’s welcome, but he doesn't feel like one. All he did was jump on a bomb. Stiles comes home to most of his stuff moved into the downstairs guest room because of his leg. His doctor back in Arizona had recommended a lot of different prosthetics and such, therapists and even a VA hospital near beacon. He turns them all down. He knows he has PTSD. He wasn’t expecting to walk away from war with nothing. Stiles recognizes the symptoms as what they are; still, have some left from the nogitsune. But he keeps going, he slowly heals and there's an emotional joint skype call with Scott and Lydia where he tells them what happened to him. Scott threatens to drop out and come home if Stiles doesn’t keep the video calls a weekly thing, and it’s the first time he’s laughed since the accident. 

Things get better. They really do. Beacon Hills is quiet and peaceful and Stiles heals. But when do things ever stay that way?

Stiles ends up getting a black and silver prosthetic after his leg is fully healed. He got better at balancing with just the one, but it was easier with the metal crutch. When he walks around town some people give their thanks for what he’s done, and he holds his tongue to keep from screaming. 

Two years pass and Stiles gets tracked down by a company called AIM. They talk a lot about his service and his accident. They offer him a spot in their program. They don’t tell him much about what the program is, but they keep telling him it’s a good chance at healing, whatever that means. So he tells them he’ll think about it, and then he spends two days researching them. It seems legit enough and his dad says it might be a good idea, so he calls them back and says yes. 

Boy was he way out of depth. 

They pay for his plane ticket out and set him up in a long hallway, where other soldiers are staying. All of them are just like him; scarred from war and missing limbs, all looking for a purpose. Stiles isn’t sure how much he fits that category but it’s interesting. He spends a couple weeks with them and goes through a ton of interviews, all of which they record. 

_“For research purposes.”_

He and twelve others are lead down a curving stone staircase into a basement like room. There are rows of standing stretchers with machines next to them. They strap each one of them to it and slot an IV in their arms. Stiles isn’t so sure this was a good idea anymore. 

They say it’s a large batch of vitamins, but its orange in color and Stiles gets a really bad feeling about this. He watches the six across from him as the ‘vitamins’ pump into their system; they clench up and start to shake. Their veins illuminate the same orange color and it fills their iris’s. One of the girls screams, and all eyes shoot to her as her arm starts to regrow itself. It’s a domino effect from there. Each one of them starts to grow their missing limbs back. Two of them get wheeled out of the room in haste and something shakes the compound. Stiles bites his tongue when the pain hits, and he can feel each cell regrow itself. When his foot thuds against the metal foot plate a gasp tears through him; he can feel his leg again and move it.

Out of some weird sense of gratefulness, most of the soldiers agree to work for AIM no matter what they need. Even if that means killing innocent people. _Most_ of them; Stiles refuses. So they lock him away in his room and bring him three meals a day. He finds out that what they were injected with was basically a super-soldier solution. They called it Extremis. It sounds like it basically hacked his body’s repair center, where the brain stores a complete blueprint of the human body, which explains why they targeted amputee soldiers. When the body is wounded it looks to that area of the brain to heal and extremis altered that part which allowed the body to regrow the missing limb. They were soldiers, so they were trained in combat and would have a higher chance of working with AIM in return for being whole again. It’s all so surreal to Stiles. They keep him locked away for two weeks before one night, an alarm sounds out through the compound. All the doors open like in a prison break-out movie. An electronic voice calls out over the speakers that they are under attack. 

Stiles makes his way through the compound and out through an old emergency exit door. A large battle is taking place right before his eyes, and he pinches himself because it doesn’t even seem real. There are Iron Man suits flying around, attacking all the extremis soldiers. There are small explosions going off as the soldiers destroy the suits and vice versa. He uses a large stack of metal polls to hide before darting across the concrete, to hide behind a building. 

A half working iron suit chases him into the building, and he grabs a thick crowbar and smashes the suit into the ground. He swings the bar over and over again until there are only small pieces of the suit remaining. Something comes crashing down around him and he shields his head as the crash surrounds him. When he looks back up the building he’s in is on fire, and there is a body falling directly above him. She falls through the cloud of fire and Stiles stumbles forward and catches her. More accurately, he braces her fall with his body. He smashes his face into the ground and is pretty sure his nose is bleeding; the woman stands up with a groan and helps Stiles up. 

“I was sure I was a goner.” She breaths and looks back up, where the fire has completely engulfed the roof of the building. 

“Good thing I was here.” Stiles offers half smile. His face aches and he reaches up and feels around his nose, which is most definitely broken. He braces one hand on the one side of his nose, and with the other, pops the bone back into place with a grunt. The pain fades away to nothing and Stiles shock must show because the woman places a hand on his shoulder. 

“You were injected, weren’t you?” Her voice is soft and understanding. Like a mother soothing a child. Stiles nods his head dumbly at the redhead.

“It enhances some of your abilities. Healing is one of them. Your immune system will be greater now, you might never get sick again. Those all sound great but extremis will also increase how aggressive you are.” Stiles nods along as she lists them off. He snorts because that sounds so similar to getting the bite. 

They get out of the building before the flames become too bad. Stiles and the redhead, who is apparently Pepper Potts, aka CEO of Stark Industries. Stiles most definitely did not have a fangirl moment; it looks like the few remaining Iron Man clones that are left have taken out all the extremis soldiers, and Tony friggin Stark is fighting some fire-breathing buff dude across the lot. Pepper runs towards the two and shoots one of Iron Man mini-missiles right at the buff guy who explodes, and there’s no way he could have survived that. Stiles hears mechanical whirling and looks over his shoulder to an iron suit diving at him, gauntlets raised. He runs towards Tony and Pepper, who starts yelling for Tony to get the suits to stand down. Tony speaks into his earpiece, and then all the iron suits are exploding. It kind of looks like fireworks. 

“Who’s the kid?” Tony asks, his arm slung over Pepper’s shoulder. Pepper purses her lips and looks at Stiles. 

“Stiles, an innocent bystander.” He waves a hand and lets his arm drop. A look of confusion passes across Tony's face before a lightbulb goes off. 

“Wait, wait, wait. I remember that name. I remember because I thought you were bullshitting and made up a name. You rebuffed my lecture on Quantum Physics.” Tony looks down at Stiles from the bridge of his nose. 

“Yeah, because you were wrong.” Stiles makes a sour face, realizing what he’s just said. 

“Oh, really now.” Tony drops his arm from around Pepper’s shoulders and takes a step towards the kid. 

They get sucked up in a heated debate on quantum physics, and Pepper has to physically separate them when the authorities get there. All three of them give their statements and a sleek back car pulls up, and the engine revs. Tony starts to lead Pepper towards the car before looking over his shoulder and gesturing for Stiles to follow. Tony in the driver seat, Pepper in the passenger, and Stiles in the back. Stiles makes one more point about their earlier argument, and Tony is quiet for a moment before a slew of curse words leave his mouth. Yeah, Stiles just proved Tony Stark wrong over science. 

They end up at the Avengers tower, and Stiles is sitting next to Pepper in one of Tony’s labs; wires and leads stuck to his chest as Tony runs tests on the both of them. There's a metallic vial floating with blue scans running over it. Pepper explains it as something that ‘regulates’ them, whatever that means. 

“But why is it important?” Stiles waves a hand at the vial and when he lowers it, he accidentally tugs one of the leads off his chest. 

“It keeps you from going kaboom.” Tony deadpans as he swipes his hand at the screens that float, pausing to imitate an explosion with his hands. Pepper nods her head and helps him reattach the lead. 

“I’ve never seen one of those before, and I’ve had the mixed cocktail running through me for like three weeks now.” Stiles pout and goes to cross his arms over his chest. He tugs at one of the leads again, but a glare from Tony has him dropping his arms. 

“You should have exploded by now.” Tony tosses a screwdriver he had been fiddling with on the table and walks up to Stiles. He has Stiles stand and pulls up another screen, and a blue light runs over his body a couple times. 

“Nope, kid still has it.” Tony angles the screen so Stiles and Pepper can see; it looks like a full MRI of his body. Orange colored veins streak through his brain, and start branching off down his spine. 

“Maybe because he didn’t take one right, in the beginning, his body just learned to survive without?” Pepper offers from where she’s still seated on the bench. Tony opens his mouth to speak but quickly closes his mouth. 

“JARVIS run the simulation.” Tony makes a whirling motion with his finger in the air, and then walks over to the table and grabs a kit. 

“Alright kid, gimme your arm.” Tony rolls a chair over and a silver tray to draw blood. 

“No thanks.” Stiles offers lamely and curls away from the needle. 

“It’s okay, sweetie.” Pepper angles herself towards Stiles and offers her hand, which Stiles quickly takes. 

Tony takes three vials of blood and sets them up to be tested on the other side of the lab. Stiles makes small talk with Pepper while Tony does his thing. He tells her how he’s only nineteen, and Tony makes a noise at that. She asks about his time in the army and where he’s from. He very carefully leaves out mentioning the supernatural world when he tells her about the many ‘serial killers’ they’ve had. He realizes he hasn’t spoken to his dad since he had left for AIM, and asks to call him. 

Stiles is pretty sure his dad has popped many blood vessels. John yells about this and that, about seeing headlines of AIM being a corrupt terrorist group, and that most of the soldiers were terminated by Iron Man. He yells about thinking Stiles had died, again. Stiles tells him he’s okay and that he’s safe, that he’ll be coming home soon. 

He ends up staying the night at the tower and has breakfast with Tony and Pepper. Tony and him bond over physics and stuff, Pepper just shakes her head with a small smile. Tony had run many tests, scans, and sims on Stiles’ blood, and for some reason, it looks like Pepper wasn’t that far off. The extremis had almost mutated in his body, and he wouldn’t need to regulate, probably ever. Tony still couldn’t figure out how or why it had happened; Stiles can hear Deaton’s voice in the back of his head telling him he has a spark. 

Tony sets him up on one of his private jets with a punch to the shoulder and his phone number, in case his condition changes, with a promise to figure out how to remove this thing from him and Pepper. 

The next three years go by smoothly. Beacon Hills is still at peace, and Stiles continues his education on all things supernatural. He ends up getting in touch with Tony not even a week after he had returned home over a science debate. They end up starting an eternal battle of online chess, which Stiles always wins. He spends time learning to use extremist; he can't breath fire or anything like that, but if someone scares him his fingers spark. 

The whole pack comes home for summer. Scott won’t stop texting Stiles with how he excited he is to see him. It’s cute, and yeah, Stiles feels the same. Derek and Cora are back too, for the anniversary of the fire. They all meet up at the rebuilt Hale house. It’s slightly smaller than the one Derek grew up in, but it’s still their pack home, that being one of the main reasons Derek had gotten the land back, and rebuilt. 

Scott freaks the fuck out. He takes one look at Stiles and plows the teen over. He tackles him on his back in a massive bear hug, and Stiles is pretty sure Scott might cry. Scott apologizes profusely when Stiles wheezes and he tries to help him up, but Stiles just hops right back up- not something someone with half their leg gone should be able to do. Scott grabs at Stiles pant leg and drags the material up. 

“What the fuck?” Scott stammers out. Lydia hums, and Allison and Jackson look thoroughly confused. 

“What’d we miss?” Cora asks, from where she’s perched on the porch railing. 

It takes all night to catch everyone up on Stiles’ cluster fuck of a life; most of them hadn't even known he enlisted. It was a lot of this happened, but then this happened, and so on. They ordered pizza and cooked popcorn, and it was nice. 

“So your leg just magically grew back?” Cora asks, not looking at Stiles as she aims popcorn at Isaac’s open mouth. 

“Not magic. Science.” Stiles grunts with a frown. 

“Lame.” Cora sighs and hits play on the movie. 

Stiles sits through half the movie before he quietly slips out of the room, with everyone too engrossed in the movie to notice his absence; except for one member, apparently. He’s only been out back for maybe five minutes when Derek comes to stand on the porch. Stiles is sitting in the grass with his legs stretched out in a wide ‘v’ shape, rubbing his knee on his left leg absentmindedly as he stares up at the stars.

“Does it still hurt?” Derek walks down off the deck and sits down next to Stiles, staring down at the leg he’s rubbing. Stiles looks over at the wolf with a confused look and then glances down at his leg. 

“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Stiles pulls his hand back from his leg and braces both behind his back so that he can lean back.

Derek looks over at the teen as he stares up at the stars. There’s a lot of things he wants to say but doesn’t know how. He wants to ask what made Stiles join, what it was like over there, was he okay, how was he after AIM? He keeps his mouth shut, and just watches the other. Stiles remains quiet and still, and it’s so different from what he remembers. Allison disrupts their peace. 

“Stiles, there’s someone at the door for you.” Allison glances at Derek, with a hesitant look in her eyes. Derek takes a deep breath, and that’s when he smells another wolf. Stiles harumphs as he stands and hobbles his way back into the house. There’s a new movie on but the volume is turned down, everyone looks over at Stiles, and there are two figures are standing just inside the house by the front door. 

“Stiles!” Lauren squeals and rushes to him. The pack tenses as the blonde swaddles him up in a hug. Raphael lets out a small laugh and hugs Stiles after Lauren. Who, when Raph pulls back, hugs him again. 

Raphael has a quiet conversation with Derek and Scott in the kitchen, while Lauren sits down with Stiles in the living room with the rest of the pack. Both of them are dressed in civilian clothes, and it’s weird for Stiles. Lauren’s hair is braided back, and she’s wearing a flannel with the sleeves rolled up, and skinny jeans. The three come back from the kitchen, and Raph sits on Stiles’ other side. Scott sits back down next to Allison but Derek stays standing, leaning against the wall. 

“Estás bien?” Raph asks, glancing down at Siles' leg. Stiles gives him a small smile and nods.

Cora asks the two some questions about being over there and what it was like. Lauren does most of the talking; Raphael only chimes in every once in a while. It’s crazy how alike he and Boyd are. 

“Wait, how did you guys find me?” Stiles brows pinch and he leans back to look from Raph to Lauren. Raph snorts and shoots a pointed look at Lauren. 

“I got your home address from the hospital, and then when you weren’t home your dad said you were probably here.” Lauren shrugs a shoulder like she hadn’t broken the law. 

Stiles leans back on the couch and relaxes as the pack talks to his friends. His hand subconsciously creeps up to tangle in the chain of his necklace. They jump from topic to topic; first about Afghanistan, and then about the two strangers’ personal lives. Stiles chimes in and asks about Laurens dog, and Raphael’s little sisters. Cora hits mute on the movie but keeps it playing. Eventually, the conversation starts to die off into just small talk, when Raph’s hand lands heavy on Stiles' leg. Lauren glances over at the two and stares down at Stiles' leg. He’s got shorts on, and there’s no passing his real flesh and bone off as a prosthetic.

“Oh… that’s new.” Lauren’s eyes are wide, and her eyes stay locked on his leg. 

“Uh um, yeah.” Stiles clenches up, and starts running through the possible lies he can tell them. 

“Stiles.” Raph starts in an even voice. Not mad or angry or confused. 

“I’m a werewolf.” Raph pulls his hand back and lets his eyes glow golden before returning to their natural brown. He leans forward a little to look at Lauren who makes a quiet noise of understanding. 

“I’m half banshee.” Lauren glances over at Lydia, who nods her head with understanding look passing over her face. She had known the blonde was something, just not what. 

“Wow, this just made everything so much easier.” Stiles lets out a sigh, and his head flops back on the back of the couch. 

He retells the two what happened after he came home and got recruited through AIM. The pack helps and fills them in on the hellstorm BH used to be. Raph mutters under his breath in spanish every once in a while, and Lauren looks pale; both accurate responses to the life the pack has had to live. 

It turns out that Lauren and Raphael are staying in town for two weeks, to catch up with Stiles and sightsee. It’s nice, and Stiles likes to spend time with them. He loves his pack, but with Lauren and Raph, things are just easier. They were over there with him, they went through the same stuff as him; it’s only an added bonus that they’re both in the know about the supernatural. 

Stiles is really surprised it took this long for something to rear its ugly head in beacon. They’re called the Diablo pack; Stiles laughs when Derek and Cora call them that. They’re apparently not that different from the alpha pack they dealt with. They have two alphas and a couple betas, all of them ruthless, killing without giving it a second thought. The two Hales thought they had lost them back in Argentina, but apparently not. They were in town and looking for blood. All of the packs' blood, it would seem; they were known for obliterating whole packs just for the glory. 

So, they do what they do best; they make a plan. It takes three days to work out how they plan on dealing with it. Lauren and Raphael offer their assistance, especially when Cora tells them the other pack targets the humans first - and they do. 

They get him on his way home from the Hale house. Right outside of his own home. They do the whole smash-and-grab cliche bit; Stiles wakes up in what looks like an old warehouse. His arms and legs are tied to the chair he’s in, and on further inspection, the chair is bolted to the ground. Looks like they know what they’re doing. Stiles pulls at the ropes and finds no give room. He frowns, and there's a flare of warmth in his chest. He tries to stamp it down and looks around at the warehouse, trying to get any information of the Diablo pack before they come in.

They don’t leave him to his own devices for very long. The large double doors swing open, and seven of them walk in. It’s obvious the two in the front are alphas from their body language, with the other five walking behind them in a semi-triangular shape. One of the alphas, similar in body structure to Scott but with Isaac’s height, drags one of the chairs over to Stiles and sits down in front of him. They end up in a stare off for a couple minutes before the alpha snorts and shakes his head. 

“Los humanos no tienen cabida en un paquete, estúpido.” His voice is thick with an accent as he speaks to the other alpha, who in turn snorts and nods his head. 

“Lo mismo te digo.” Stiles sneers at the alpha whos head whips back to the teen. Stiles bites at the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking. Raphael had taught him some spanish while they were overseas. 

One of the betas comes up to Stiles and rakes her claws across his collarbone. She’s small in frame, probably Lydia’s height or shorter. Her hair is a pale blonde, braided away from her face. She reminds Stiles of Kali. The alpha lets out a laugh and a small applause like it’s a fucking show. Stiles drops his chin to his chest to hide his eyes. The wound already beginning to knit itself back together, his shirt and the blood should be enough to hide it. Once he’s sure his eyes are back to their normal brown, he looks back up at them. 

“You’re making a really big mistake.” Stiles frowns at them. The other betas inch forward. They look like rabid dogs after one bone.

“I do love when they beg.” The other alpha sneers and leans against the chair the first alpha still sits in, bracing his hand on the other side of the back of the chair, and crossing his ankle over the other. His accent is less noticeable than the other. 

“I’m stating a fact. You made a mistake coming to this town, coming after this pack. We took down a whole alpha pack and a darach. You guys are like chopped liver compared to what we’ve already faced. And each and every time we came out alive… can’t say much about the others, though.” Stiles tries to shrug his shoulders, but more so just jerks them forward because of the restraints. The sitting alpha doesn’t look phased but the one standing now has a deep frown while he stares back at Stiles. He looks back at two of the betas and nods his head, the two turning and walking out of the warehouse. 

“We just need to know the packs' weaknesses and then we’ll let you go.” The sitting alpha stands and shrugs his shoulders raising his hands raised up in gesture. Stiles laughs at that one, which looks to piss of the alpha. 

“I’m not giving you shit.” Stiles hisses and his fist clench. His eyes flicker, but they must pass it off as a trick of the light streaming through the holes in the roof because none of the wolves seem phased. 

“You will eventually.” The main alpha whispers and gestures at the blonde.

Stiles doesn’t want to say he’s used to torture, but it’s as close a correct description as he can get. He went through almost the same situation with Gerard-he wanted information on the pack, and Stiles refused to give anything up. He kept the old man's attention away from the two betas strung up. Then when he joined up they put him in a mock situation that was too real. The female beta uses her claws as knives, carving into his skin after each question he doesn’t answer. The pain is real, but his skin knits itself back together. When the alpha starts asking questions about Derek and Cora, that’s when the heat starts to curl around Stiles’ chest again. 

“I’m surprised his mother let him get past infantry, what a useless wolf he is. Couldn’t be a beta, can’t be an alpha… still can’t be an alpha” The alpha ticks his fingers off as he goes, the sing-song voice grating on Stiles' ears. “Maybe we’ll kill him first.” He smirks down at Stiles whose hands curl into fists. 

“Oh that struck a chord, didn't it?” The blonde smirks, and digs her claws into his chest right over his heart. 

“You’d bleed for him, wouldn’t you?” The alpha sneers and seems to have already gotten his answer. “Disgusting.” The alpha mutters under his breath and glances over at the other alpha. 

The warmth explodes in Stiles’ chest and hot fire streaks through his veins. He looks up at the alpha's who are frowning, eyes wide. 

“I thought you said he was human!” The blonde beta growls at one of the others. 

“He’s supposed to be.” The beta whimpered and took a step back. 

The ropes anchoring his wrists to the arms of the chair burst into flames and the ones around his ankles follow shortly. Stiles stands and shakes his hands, glops of burning rope turned to liquid drips from his skin. The raw bitten lines on his wrists heal over and he grins at the pack. 

“I told you. You made a _big mistake._ ” 

The betas come for him first. As he’s fighting them, his pack comes bursting through the doors. He’s not too concerned with them, he knows they can take care of themselves. He does spare them a glance though, as the two betas who had left earlier rush in behind his pack. When did Isaac get back? 

Stiles takes care of the three betas who had advanced on him, using his training from the army to quickly incapacitate them. The blonde beta who had used him as a human etch a sketch sneers at him, and jumps onto his shoulders. She locks her legs around his throat and squeezes, cutting off his air. Stiles thrashes left and right to try and dislodge her, but she holds firm. He stumbles over to the metal beams that support the ceiling and throws his back into it, slamming her into the metal. She grunts and let's go, falling to the floor- Stiles coughs and sucks in air. She doesn’t give him much time before she’s up and coming at him again, claws raised and aiming for his throat. Stiles deflects her hands and gets behind her, throwing her into a choke hold; she digs her claws into his forearms, and his hold falters. Sure his skin will heal, but it still hurts like a bitch. Stiles glances over his shoulder at where his pack is struggling to take down the others. Four more betas from the Diablo pack have joined them. Stiles clenches his jaw, shifts his hold around her neck, and flicks his wrists. A deafening crack echoes through the warehouse and the alpha who had been questioning him turns and yells. There's only a couple of feet separating Stiles from the fight and the alpha who has hatred burning in his eyes. 

The alpha looks all around him and shuffles his feet, his boot hitting a metal pole laying on the floor. The alpha grabs the pole and smirks at Stiles, who braces himself for the alpha to advance on him but instead, turns and heads for Derek. Stiles can see it playing out before his eyes; the alpha is going to spear the pole through Derek’s chest. With him not being an alpha anymore, he won’t be able to heal from that. 

But Stiles would. Probably. 

He doesn’t give it a second thought as he runs towards them. The extremist streaks through his muscles and Stiles lose his breath at how fast he ends up running. He stumbles on trying to stop and bumps into Derek’s back. The wolf freezes and shoves the beast he’d been fighting away from him, and nails a kick to the wolves’ face. Stiles is staring down at the lead pipe sticking out of his abdomen. It’s embedded about three inches deep right below his chest, above his stomach. The world seems to freeze around him as he drops to his knees, his eyes focusing on Derek as the wolf rounds him and swipes his claws across the alphas throat; officially restoring the beta back to his alpha status. 

Derek doesn’t even wait for the dead alpha to fall before he rushes over to Stiles side. Someone is at his back keeping him upright. The world seems to return to its normal speed and Stiles tries to take a breath in, but something wet in his throat makes him cough and blood splatters over Derk’s shirt. 

“Uo… tk… t.” Stiles mumbles over his words, black spots clouding over his vision. 

Scott is the one behind him and is yelling for Cora to call an ambulance. Isaac, Jackson, and Raphael are dragging all the bodies out of the warehouse and around back to bury them. Stiles reaches his hand up and rests in on top of the pipe, jostling the metal and ripping another cough from his chest. There’s warmth flowing through his veins, skin trying to heal around the foreign object. 

“Out.” He tries again but Derek shakes his head. Telling him something about blood and organs. Stiles grunts, wraps his hand around the pipe and yanks it from his own chest. Scott yells and presses into his friends back, his hand pressing over the hole. 

Stiles only lets out a sigh of relief. His veins run gold and what looks like cooling lava spills over his chest as the injury heals itself, and his organs repair the damage done to him. The whole thing takes a couple of minutes, and Stiles is exhausted by the end of it. He slumps forward into Derek, who catches him in shock. 

“Did I forget to mention I’m kind of indestructible too?” He laughs before his world goes dark. 

Things are good after that. The story of the Diablo pack being massacred by the human in the pack spreads all across Cali and then some. It’s a little far-fetched, but no one bothers to correct the inaccuracies. Raphael goes back to his home in Arizona, with promises to visit, and Lauren actually decides to move to Beacon Hills. She’s never met another banshee besides Lydia, and they end up becoming fast friends. Stiles and Derek don’t have any big epic confession of their feelings for each other; it’s more of a gradual progression. Stiles starts hanging around the Hale house more after his kidnapping- it’s one of the only places he feels safe. Derek becomes very protective now that he’s an alpha again. They talk about Stiles time overseas, and about Derek being in New York. Derek tells Stiles about his family and he tells him about Kate. Derek helps Stiles with the nightmares he still has from the nogitsune, and from the IED that took his leg. 

They start dating and they don’t even realize it. They go to the movies when the new Star Wars movie comes out. Stiles having forced Derek to watch all the originals and Derek actually liking them. They go for ice cream when Stiles has bad days. Stiles makes Derek his famous homemade chicken noodle soup when he misses his family. They’re in a relationship before they even know it. 

Derek had been getting ready to go for a perimeter run with Isaac. Stiles was perched on one of the island stools with a yoohoo and his laptop in front of him. He’d been taking online classes after Derek convinced him it would be a good thing. 

“We shouldn’t be any more than three hours.” Derek grabs a water bottle from the fridge and takes a swig before he walks over to Stiles side. 

“Mmkay. I’ll have dinner ready when you guys get home.” Stiles looks up from his computer and over at Derek, who returns the smile- one of gratitude and love. 

“Tell Isaac he’s welcome to stay if he wants.” Stiles points at Derek, who nods his head. 

“Be safe.” Stiles tilts his head and leans towards Derek. 

Derek hums and leans forward. His damp lips press to Stiles chocolate milk flavored ones. There’s no fireworks or goosebumps from their first kiss. It’s simple and so very domestic, and what both of them need. Stiles presses back just the slightest and breaths in through his nose. Derek pulls back, and leaves through the back door, while Stiles turns back to his work.

Neither of them even realized what had just happened. 

Stiles realizes it when he’s in the middle of cooking an actually snaps the metal fork in half. Derek realizes it when Isaac makes a comment on how much his and Stiles scents have become intertwined. They talk about it that night after Isaac had left to head back to Scoots. It’s awkward and things get a little emotional on both their parts. Derek talks about how damaged he feels after Kate and Jennifer, Stiles talks about his relationship with Malia and how he hadn’t been ready for it. But this relationship is something they both want. 

The pack isn’t even phased when they make their relationship public two months later. It was all ‘oh I thought you were together ever since the Diablo pack’ and ‘finally!’. Derek still has his moments where he can’t help comparing himself to Kate, and Stiles still has his insecurities. 

But they make it work. 

Things are still quiet a month later, and most of the pack is home from college and their respective time away. Stiles and a couple members had run into town to stock up on snacks for their pack night. Stiles insisted on them getting a couple of healthy items. Isaac whispered something under his breath that Stiles couldn’t hear, but made Scott laugh. They had just left the supermarket when Scott let out a small gasp, and they all turned to see what had disturbed the alpha. 

“Is that Iron Man?” Scott whisper-screams. Stiles whips around in time to see the Iron Man suit touch down on the road, and open up for Tony to step out. Stiles frowns and stalks over to the mechanic, and leaves his pack gaping behind him. 

“What are you doing here?” Stiles asks as the suit starts to close in on itself until it’s just a small square. 

“I had some free time.” Tony shrugs a shoulder. He glances over the teen's shoulder at the group and gives a smirk and a wave. Stiles glances back and sees the mix of confusion and star struck. He also notices that some of the townspeople are starting to take interest in the celebrity. 

“Let’s take this somewhere else, yeah?” Stiles jerks his head at his pack and motions for Tony to follow. 

They all pile into Stiles’ jeep and Jackson’s porsche, and head back to the Hale house. Tony takes his suit to the house in the woods and beats them there by a whole five minutes. When the two cars pull up to the house Derek and Cora are out front. The young wolf literally hanging off tony’s arm, and Derek standing on the porch. Stiles lets out a laugh as he kills the jeep and hops out. 

“Do something about this, would you?” Tony looks over at Stiles and points at Cora. 

“Down girl, down!” Stiles yells and cackles when Cora lets go and turns a heavy growl on him. 

“How the hell do you know Tony Stark?” Cora turns back to the avenger and Stiles is pretty sure there might be actual stars in the girls' eyes. 

“I met him after the whole extremis thing.” Stiles waves a hand and bobs his head up and down. 

“Extremis?” Lydia questions, her eyes drifting between the two brunettes. 

Stiles snaps his fingers in response. Sparks flaring to life, his eyes flashing gold. His veins streaking with molten honey, starting in his hands and traveling up his arms. 

“It’s what they named it when they cooked up the idea to hijack people's brains.” Tony frowns, and his eyes go hazy for a second before refocusing.

“How’s Pepper?” Stiles asks, shoving his hands in his pockets. The pack, seeming to lose interest, starts to migrate into the pack house, leaving the two outside.

“She’s doing alright. She’s still struggling to control the aggression, but we’ve made a lot of progress.” Tony runs a hand through his hair and tugs at the short strands. 

“I’m still working on a cure. I think I’ve almost got it, but there’s a lot of variables.” Tony mutters and shakes his head. 

“How about you kid?” Tony crosses his arms over his chest and jerks his chin at the teen. 

“I’m good.” Stiles twists his fingers together in front of him. He glances over a where the front door is still open and Derek is standing in the hall. He and Isaac are talking, and Derek lets out a laugh and ruffles Isaac’s hair. Stiles smiles at the site and turns back to Tony, who is watching him with knowing eyes. 

“Really good.” Stiles nods his head. 

“How about a game of chess?” Tony offers. 

Stiles lets out a laugh and nods his head. They both make their way into the house, Stiles joking about Tony never winning. Stiles bumps shoulders with Derek as he walks past the wolf. Derek hums and curls his arm around Stiles' waist, and presses a kiss to his temple before letting him go. 

Stiles really had won.

**Author's Note:**

> Any information in here that seems factual I either googled or made up. I used an online translator for the Spanish so if any of it is wrong I apologize.


End file.
